We'll let fate decide, eh?
by Man Of Reason
Summary: What if fate had decided differently? Obviously AU.
1. Chapter 1

**We'll let fate decide, eh?**

Disclaimer: Lucas owns everything.

A/n: this is my first Star Wars fanfic, so be kind. Any hope you like it. Oh and I know Anakin is somewhat out of character. It's intentional, different life, different person.

What had earlier been a crisp, clear day had quickly disintegrated into a bleak, wet and miserable afternoon as the thunderheads from the north had rolled in. The once bustling, broad and open streets of Theed where now empty, save for the odd straggler, making their way warily against the driving rain. The majestic capital of Naboo could, every so often, be seen clearly as the heavens discharged yet another lightening bolt that inevitably danced its way across the sky.

While the citizens of Theed took refugee indoors and those that didn't cursed their luck that forced them out in this weather, there was one that didn't seem to notice. In the gardens of the Royal Palace, in a small enclave dedicated to the memory of a fallen hero, a man stood, statue like, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze rarely moving from the small monument in front of him.

Anakin Skywalker stood silently, reveling in the feel of the rain hitting his face, enjoying the feeling of the wind tugging at his damp clothes. He stood and stared at the monument for one very simple reason, because he could. After years of been enslaved to the will of others, of been owned by one master after another, of longing to do what he wished, when he wished, he finally could.

_Free_, it was a word that had at one time in his life been nothing more than an alien concept, a state of being that teased and taunted with its promise, a dream that got him through endless days of work and through nights of depression and hopelessness. It was something that was so long denied to him, something he could see in others and was envious of. Freedom, something he had come to realize that those that had it took it for granted, never really realizing what they truly had. He had come to understand that unless your freedom was taken away from you, that unless you never truly were free, you could not comprehend what it felt like to be owned, to be someone else's property.

Having been denied his freedom for so long, having had it withheld so cruelly for so many years, it was unsurprising that now he could feel it in the very air around him, in the rain that hit his face, in the wind that moved through his long damp hair. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he could even feel it in the Force as it danced and leapt around him, sharing his joy.

The monument glistened in the rain; the words etched at the base of the small statue looked like they had been carved just yesterday rather than the thirteen years he knew this statue had been here. It read, "Dedicated to the memory of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn who fell preserving the freedoms of the Nubian people." The statue was a simple yet eloquent likeness of the Jedi master, right down to his short beard and flowing robes as he strode forward resolutely, unlit Lightsaber clutched tightly in one hand.

Even as he became aware of the familiar presence nearby it spoke, "I never understood what your morbid fascination with coming here was but now that we are here you can explain it to me?"

Anakin turned his head to take in the spectral form of the man that he had only ever seen alive once and found that Qui-Gon Jinn was fixing him with a frown. Letting a small smirk play on his features he replied, "No, I don't suppose you ever did," as Qui- Gons frown deepened he quickly explained, "you first 'appeared' to me in your current form when I was little over ten years old, Qui-Gon. Do you have any idea how many times I thought I was going crazy? That I was just seeing things? It got to the stage in those early months that I promised myself that the first thing I would do once I was free was come here, to this place and make sure I wasn't losing my mind."

A soft chuckle escaped Qui-Gons lips as he listened to his explanation. Anakin could see the man regain his composure before replying in a voice of mock indignation, "But surely I managed to convince you later, especially after your Force abilities began to grow, that I wasn't just a figment of your overactive imagination. I am not that inept."

The smirk that had been playing across his features blossomed into a full blown grin at his mentor's response. Hoping to alleviate some of Qui-Gons 'fears' he responded, "of course not Qui-Gon, I knew long ago that you were real, it's just from that time onwards every time I imagined what I would do once I was free it always started here." The grin died from his face, his expression was slowly replaced with a look of deep sadness, "After all, I did promise myself," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Following his train of thought Qui-Gon latched onto the problem at hand far quicker than he would have imagined he could have. His voice quickly grew serious, his countenance unyielding as he addressed an issue that they had talked sparingly about for a little over two years, "there was nothing you could have done to keep that promise, you were been held on the other side of the planet, far away from the Lars farm. Your slave implant stopped you from leaving and any other course of action would most likely have resulted in your own death or you becoming a fugitive, neither of which your mother would have wanted."

"I know Qui-Gon, I know," Anakin replied with a sad smile, "we went over this a long time ago, you even managed to convince me it was just bad luck, my mother was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, if I recall correctly. I just wish I had at least been given a _chance_ to keep that promise." He had been fifteen when he had told his mother he would look after her, keep her safe. It was the first time he was brought by a different master then her, the first time in his life they would be separated. He could still recall her face as he left the place they had called home since before he could remember, sad, yet determined that he would not see it, or at least as little of it as possible.

Had he known then that that would be the last time he would see her, he would have told her how much he loved her, how much she meant to him, would have thanked her for putting up with him for so long. Instead he had tried to be brave, strong. Tried to show her he would be fine without her so she wouldn't worry. He hadn't shown her how much he cared. He had come to realize that if he could change one thing in his life it would be that moment, not, as it had originally been, the moment when the chance cube fell wrong and Watto decided not to bet him in the pod race. It had been a startling revelation when he had realized that, that he would give up the chance to become a Jedi just so his mother would know he loved her, one last time.

Anakin turned his head and studied the spectral form of the Jedi Master, the man that he owed so much to. He was standing stoically, hands folded inside his robes, waiting patiently for Anakin to collect himself. It was this man that got him through the dark periods in his life, had given him hope when at times he had none, never let him believe that he would be a slave for life. He could not stop the sigh from escaping his lips as he addressed the issue that Qui-Gon had come to talk about, "I'm not sure I can do what you ask of me."

With one raised eyebrow Qui-Gon replied, amusement crackling through his voice as he spoke, "Of course you can do it, I have every faith in you boy, after all, you were a model student."

Anakin raised his own eyebrow in imitation of the blue eyed Jedi Master, "I was, wasn't I?" he said, copying the other mans tone of voice before he snorted and returned to his own one, "Oh come on, we both know that I was a good student because of the fact I was doing it in _secret, _if I had been sent to the Temple as a boy it won't have been nearly as fun or rebellious and I probably would have had problems even meditating. I hate to think what I would have been like, stuffed in those robes, with that haircut, forced to learn about histories and other useless things. The only thing that would probably have interested me was Lightsaber practice. I have no doubt I would have played the moody, arrogant teenager to perfection."

"Well we can thank the Force that the Jedi were spared having you in the Temple then, can't we? I too have no doubts that the Temple would have been less…. serene had you graced it with your presence," Qui-Gon said, not bothering to keep the smile off his face. His expression quickly sobered, however, as they both recalled the other reason he had been such a good student. While in the beginning it had been a mixture of the rebellious streak and wonder at what Qui-Gon was telling him, later he became focused and driven because his skill, his talent and his knowledge of the Force was the one thing in his life that his masters would never own.

For years all his spare energies went into his attempts at mastering the force, always in secret but always satisfying. His training in the Force was the only thing he had been able to do in his life that had been solely for himself, the one thing he could be proud of in an otherwise wasted life, or rather now, a wasted childhood and adolescence. Anakin could still remember been worked relentlessly, day after day, until he was ready to drop from exhaustion, but each night instead forcing himself train with Qui-Gon, to focus his exhausted mind deep into the Force and call on it to ease his pain.

His ultimate reward came the night that he completed his Lightsaber; he had pushed the activation switch, heard the now familiar snap-hiss and saw the brilliant white blade spring to life. It was the first time he had felt anything close to been in control of his own life, to been free. White, the color he felt best represented freedom. He had stood; his features set in a smirk, and moved the blade around in front of him, heard it move through the air. After a few minutes of allowing himself to feel the pure elation that was running through his body, he deactivated the blade and immediately got back to work. Qui-Gon was surprised he was going to build a second but he reasoned that he might lose one, or one day two might prove useful. It wasn't until much later that the idea occurred to him that he might like to learn to fight with both.

Now the two identical black and silver cylinders were hidden discreetly in his clothes, ready to be drawn at a moments notice. Even in this weather it was impossible for one to see the twin handles resting against his body. It was Qui-Gons voice that interrupted his thoughts though, "I know you don't like her Anakin but the attempts on her life have started again and something tells me that the Sith are behind it. I know you don't see yourself as having a side in the battle between the Jedi and the Sith," his frustrated tone let Anakin know what he thought about that, "but let me assure you that if the Sith come to power, if they even get an inkling that you exist, they will hunt you down relentlessly. You would be a threat to them."

Turning to look directly into those blue eye's he asked in a strained voice, "All I would have to do is guard her? Nothing more, no making nice, or even been friends, just keep her alive?"

"From what I understand about the position you don't even have to talk to her if you don't want to," he said, exasperatedly. He brought his hand up to the Japor snippet that hung around his neck, a constant reminder that few people were what they seemed, he considered Qui-Gons words. In the end there was only one thing he could do, after all this was the only thing that Qui-Gon had ever asked of him.

"Very well, I'll go. But I don't have to like it," he hoped his voice hadn't sounded too whiney when he said that. As another thought occurred to him he continued, "And I don't want them to know my real name, or where I'm from. I don't want her connecting the dots. I'll just keep her alive long enough so that she can keep doing whatever it is that she has been doing to annoy the Sith, hopefully lead to them exposing themselves as you hope they will, then I'm gone Qui-Gon. I don't want her to ever know." It was annoying Qui-Gon wanted him to be her body guard, but he understood his reasoning that a Jedi would almost be useless, the Sith would just target the Jedi first before going after her. On the other hand a hidden, unknown, Force user would be more than useful. "At least I'll be getting paid this time but she better not start getting all high and mighty on me," he grumbled.

"I thought as much," He conceded, "I haven't even told Master Yoda who you really are, he trusts me enough that he will take my judgment on this matter, though I think he may suspect more than I have told him. He has arranged for you to fill the vacancy within her employment under the name of Owen Walker, something which should be easy enough for you to remember, from Naboo apparently. And yes", he added with a rueful smile, "you will be getting paid."

"So you arranged that name?" he asked in an amused voice. At Qui-Gon's nod he continued. "And I suppose I should overlook the fact he comes from Naboo, where I just so happen to be at the moment?"

"You can if you like," Qui-Gon shrugged, "but apparently there's a transport leaving from the docks in a little over half an hour. I hear that Owen Walker has a prepaid ticket; all he has to do is show up. If I remember correctly the docks are a little more than a twenty minute walk from here."

What surprised him the most was that he was actually not more surprised. In truth he should have seen this coming. Holding his hand over his heart in mock hurt he tried to act more horrified, "Why, Master Jinn, if I didn't know any better I might not believe that this was a coincidence." At Qui-Gons chuckle he grew serious, "you know that I am doing this for you right, not her?"

The spectral form nodded his understanding before asking a question of his own, "So you are going?" At Anakin's nod he pressed on, "you promise?"

"Yes, Qui-Gon, I promise," he growled before continuing, "I'll go baby sit Senator Amidala." Quickly checking the time, he added, "and I suppose I better get going or I'm going to miss Owens flight. I guess I'll see you on Coruscant" With one last look at the small monument and then giving Qui-Gon's way to innocent expression a glare, he started for the docks in the driving wind and unrelenting rain.

A/n: I know Anakin sounds a little like Han in this chapter but I couldn't bring myself to change or delete those comments. Anyway I'd like to know what you think, so plz review.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: We all know it belongs to Lucas.

A/N: As this is my first star wars fanfic I'm bound to make a few mistakes, that's why I'm doing such an AU. Anyway I hope they don't detract from the story, thanks to those that reviewed as well. Enough of me here's the second chapter.

For Padme Amidala life as a senator had never been more difficult, or uncertain. Thanks to war the republic seemed to be dying before her very eyes, with freedoms of the republic citizens been revoked in the name of security and the extreme powers that the office of chancellor now possessed, the republic itself seemed to be holding on by barley a fingernail. The attacks on her life didn't help matters much either.

'I've dealt with this before and I'll deal with it again,' she sternly reminded herself, then proceeded to wince as she recalled exactly what had occurred the last time. The image of the young man floated unbidden into her mind, Lightsaber burn across his chest, face to pale to be on a living person. The price of her safety had been too high, far too high. The worst part was that his death had done little in the way of solving the question of who was sending the assassins in the first place, it was almost as if he had died in vain. A waste of a life in the defense of hers. Guilt plagued her continuously because of that, driving her to succeed in preserving the republic, with little thought of herself. Stubbornly she forced her mind back to the near endless task reading through the reports that littered her desk, but once again she found it hard to stay focused, her mind drifting back to her musings.

Afterward it seemed that whoever had sent the assassins got what they wished, as the attacks started when she voiced her concerns over the military creation act and ended with the start of the clone wars. Obviously whoever it was had something to gain from the war, more specifically had something to gain from the republic having an army. The one answer that seemed likely, the Sith, made no sense as Count Dooku was in control of the Separatists. Therefore how could opposing an army of the Republic really be anything but a benefit to them?

It wasn't as if she had been against opposing the sith or the Separatists but the mere existence of an army cancelled out a diplomatic solution to the concerns of those that had removed themselves from the Republic, after all once the Republic had an army there was little else the Separatists could feel but threatened. And once the Republic had an army there was little else left to be done than use it, something that the majority of the Senators had so easily decided to do a little over two years ago now.

'And look at the results' she thought bitterly. War in every corner of the Galaxy, millions dead, sometimes entire plants destroyed, made unlivable by the sheer amount of orbital bombardments that had taken place. The refugee problem was reaching crisis point and there seemed to be no end in site, every time the Separatists lost they just seemed to slip away, only to attack somewhere else sometimes only days later, gaining another foothold that had to be removed.

As the door to her apartment complex slip open, revealing Captain Typho striding towards her, she glanced down at the report she had been reading, apparently something about what was been done about the refugees that where flooding Coruscant, and sighed. She had had this report in her hands for the last half hour and she only now realized that she read the first line on six separate occasions. Suddenly anxious to know how the meeting went, she carefully put down the report and rose to meet with her head of security as he stopped before her desk. Offering her a small customary bow he addressed her in his gruff voice, "Milady."

"Captain," she returned while at the same time trying to remain composed, "I trust there were no ….. _Incidents_ that made your morning unnecessarily dangerous?" If there had been she was almost sure she would have been informed straight away but she wouldn't put it past Typho not to tell her if he deemed it minor or he thought it would unduly worry her.

To her no small relief he answered, "None Milady, there have been no more security breaches and there is no activity of a suspicious nature to report, all is as well as it can be, under the present circumstances." The last she knew he added for her benefit, just to remind her he was unhappy with her decision to stay of Coruscant. He reasoned it would be safer for her to leave again but with the experience of last time she wasn't so sure and was determined not to run again.

Happy that at least today was peaceful, her mood lightened before she asked after the other important piece of news that he carried, trying not to sound to hopeful, "What did the Jedi say about our current situation?" She would have gone to the Temple herself had Typho not insisted she was safest here, out of harms way or as he put it 'not risking herself unnecessarily.'

"The meeting went as we expected. Due to the war they are stretched far to thin across the galaxy to be able to offer us any aid in tracking down who is ultimately responsible for the assignation attempts, but still they offer their apologies for not been able to help. I made sure they were aware that we understood, that we had expected this and that there would be no ill feelings as you instructed," he reported, frustration evident in his voice. Although they had known that this was likely to be the case part of her was still disappointed, having a Jedi around would make everyone within her employee that much safer and she would not have to worry so much.

But another part, a much larger part of her was glad, that part that felt the Jedi had sacrificed enough for her and her causes already. She had been secretly dreading that they would find a way, however improbable, to once again send Obi-Wan Kenobi to her aid. Twice he had come, once as a Padawan and then again two years ago when all this started, as a Jedi Knight. Both times he had come he had left a broken man, the first time he lost his master to Darth Maul, the second he lost his Padawan learner to Count Dooku. Once again the image of the too pale face came to mind, the face of the boy she had forced to follow his masters distress call, a boy to young for what she accidentally thrust upon him.

Forcing her mind away from those thoughts she focused on Typho, "Understandable, all is as we assumed then. Did they say anything about who they thought might be behind it then?" she asked. It had been a long shoot after all as was this.

"I asked Milady but they seemed as clueless as we are, though they agreed with our assessment that someone is trying to either silence you or see you as a threat to something they might wish to pass through the senate. They obviously believe it is due to your station that you are been targeted. They suggested it may have something to do with your support of the demilitarization campaign and your insistence that a republic doesn't force its members to join, or stay members. Your insistence that we should sue for peace and allow the Separatists to leave." He replied.

She nodded her head in understanding, never truly expecting anything else, but she was still disappointed, however unrealistically, she had hoped they would offer them something that they didn't know, a path to follow at least. At present it could still be anyone, from any of the companies that were making unprecedented amounts of credits supplying the republic with weapons and starships to political rivals who were desperate for the clone armies to remain or even the Separatist leaders who were still bitter about what occurred all those years ago on Naboo.

"Well we had to try didn't we?" she asked with a small smile, "if that is all captain I should get back to work." Not expecting there to be anything else and intending that as a dismissal she turned back towards her desk only to be startled by the sound of Typho's voice.

"There is one other thing Milady," he started hesitantly, "do you recall how we are short on security personal after Derrick left?" at her nod he continued, "Well somehow the Jedi were aware of this and were also aware that we had been having trouble filling this position. While I was at the temple the council asked if we would be willing to take on someone they recommend and since that position had been vacant for weeks I agreed, though if you have reservations about this I can still say no."

Now this was a surprise, and a small bit of good news, her personal security detail was looking more and more ragged as the weeks passed as five men tried to cover the shifts of six. Trying to find someone to fill that spot had been near impossible, the amount of attacks on her life had more than discouraged any would be applicants. A genuine smile lit up her face as she replied, "No that should be fine, anyone that the Jedi recommend is highly unlikely to be a spy or an assassin now are they?" she suppressed a giggle as she saw Typho role his eye, she knew he didn't like it when she made light of their current situation. "But it is strange for them to recommend anybody, what did they saw about him?" she asked, slightly curious.

"Not much in truth," he started before opening a file in his hands to where he had made some notes, "Apparently his name is Owen Walker and he is from Naboo, but was rarely there, he has spent most of his life in the Outer Rim with his family business. It appears as if one of the Jedi ran across him on one of their missions in the Outer Rim and he helped them out of a tricky situation. According to the Jedi they have felt they owed him ever since but have been unable to do anything about it until now. The war has put him out of business and he needs work," he stopped reading from the file and looked up, "It does seem like a good idea to do a favor for the Jedi, Milady, its not as if there is anybody else and they would hardly recommend someone who was incapable, though they said he may need a little training in etiquette."

"That sounds fine Captain, if he needs a little instruction I'm sure you can provide it and as you say we have little choice in who to hire, at least he is better than no one at all. When does he arrive?" she asked curiously, wanting to know so she could make a point to meet him personally when he arrived.

"In three days time he'll arrive from Naboo, apparently he was visiting some old friends there before he heard from the council." He said, reading from the file once again. As Typho said that she saw out of the corner of her eye the two guards that were stationed at her door sigh with relief, confirming her suspicions that doing double shifts were taking its toll on the men.

"Very well Captain, we'll meet this Owen Walker then. In the mean time I have to get back to work and I sure you would like to get some rest," she said. With that Typho gave another small bow before he exited the room. She turned back to her desk and once she caught sight of the mountain of reports that made the desk near impossible to see she was unable to stop the groan that escaped her lips.

* * *

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn walked the halls of the Jedi Temple unnoticed and unseen by everyone he passed, though some did pause for a moment every now and then, as if they had sensed something they could not describe, before carrying on their way. Far from been upset at his current predicament of been one with the Force he was content. Having been dead for over a decade had long since erased any ill feelings and regrets he had about the nature and timing of his death. Plus he had grown used to the solitude and the feeling of been able to immerse himself completely within the force without losing his sense of self. 'Well almost solitude' he corrected himself.

For a moment, as seemed to be happening more often of late, his thoughts rested on his young…… _protégé_. Anakin Skywalker, the boy he had watched grow into a young man, the boy that the Force had allowed him to guide, to mentor, for the past decade and more, the man that would never really be his apprentice no matter how much he would have liked him to be, the young man he had grown more than fond of. He would never hear the title 'master' escape Anakin's lips as a show of respect; he would only hear it when Anakin wanted to remind him of his one time station. Anakin's one time position in life would forever deny him that small joy.

While he didn't really need to walk to where he was going he found that it helped him order his thoughts and, as he turned a corner, he did just that. The time was coming when he would be unable to appear to Anakin at will anymore, the Force demanded that he make his own way, choose his own path as much as possible. Why the force had suddenly decided that he had done what was required of him and now was a good time to leave the boy on his own he could not fathom but it was as if Anakin was going to be where he was supposed to be, it almost felt as if the Force was telling him that he had done his job, done what had been required of him and now it was time to let go.

Deep down he knew that that wasn't entirely true, the boy's training was incomplete and that was why he was here today. He had done his best to train the boy ever since that first day when Anakin had suddenly been able to see him. But there was only so much a spirit could accomplish and there was one area that he lacked instruction almost completely, Lightsaber training – practical application. It was one thing to know the Lightsaber forms; it was another thing entirely to face another Force wielder in physical combat with a Lightsaber.

Apart from Anakin and his natural aptitude concerning anything to do with the force, it had taken a decade but he had finally been able to communicate with another, unsurprisingly it was Master Yoda. Though as of yet he was unable to do it as freely as Anakin. It was Yoda that he was going to see hoping to arrange something for Anakin, and at the same time trying not to betray the boys trust. The person he had in mind for Anakin's tutor he trusted completely and in truth he would get as much out of it as Anakin would, if not more in his current state of mind. Arriving at Yoda's door he settled himself and entered, prepared to argue his case, praying all would go well.

A/N: please let me know what you think and Review.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: George is sitting in a vault counting money at the Skywalker ranch, I'm obviously not him.

A/N: A bit of a mean chapter and one swear word. You have been warned if the rating is wrong and I'm not supposed to type swear words. Anyway hope you like it. And Tony +10, mate. Thanks for reviewing.

Anakin pushed his way through the excited crowds, struggling to find a path that would take him of this Force forsaken ship. 'Qui-Gon forgot to mention that that was such a …….. _pleasant_ trip,' he grumbled to himself as he was yet again shoved in the back. Resisting the urge to throw a glare over his shoulder he instead focused on the open doorway he could see in the distance, longing for the moment when the fresh air would hit his face, when he could move without been jostled from every side. Ignoring the sweat that was trickling down his back, he pushed resolutely forward.

It was not so much the hot, humid, atmosphere that got to him. Rather it was that he had to share those conditions with so many people in such a confined space. He had heard that space was cold. He had never been told, never even imagined, that been locked in the hull of a starship, lined wall to wall with people, would be so hot. So aggravating. It had seemed like endless torture and an assault to his senses that had left him stunned. From the wailing children, to the overfriendly fellow passengers, to the food and climate, it didn't stop. The worst part of it was that despite the security presence that ships like that had, if you didn't keep a constant eye on your belongings they were liable to go missing. Which, of course, had meant that he could not remove his Lightsabers. Sleeping with two foot long cylinders of metal strapped to your sides, he had learnt, was near impossible.

So, with his cloak hanging limply behind his back and his meager belongings thrown over one shoulder in a simple bag, he was finally about to be free. On the other hand what he sensed through the Force suggested that his problems were merely beginning. Coruscant, seat of the Galactic Republic, felt like a chaotic, streaming, mess of life. As the bottleneck of people crowding the exit finally gave way, he through one last glance over his shoulder at what may as well have been his prison for the last three days, taking in the bleak, nearly empty vessel, he said a silent prayer to the Force and descended the ramp, only to stop dead, all thoughts of fresh air forgotten. The sight that greeted him through the slate glass windows that housed the space port forcing all others do a distant whisper, to be recalled later after he had dealt with this shock to his system. The Force, it seemed, could not do Coruscant justice.

Slowly, like a puppet drawn by a string, he was pulled to the window. Barely noticing the looks he was receiving from those that passed him by, some of amusement, some just irritated as he stepped in front of them. He made his way through the crowd of people that flowed like the oceans of Naboo, threatening to swallow everything in their path, to stand before the windows. Ordered chaos, that was the best description that he could think of for Coruscant, ordered chaos. After having grown up on Tatooine, Naboo had seemed wondrous; Alderaan had effortlessly taken his breath away at the sheer amount of people that resided there and so much more. But as Naboo and Alderaan were to Tatooine, Coruscant was to Naboo and Alderaan, to him it was utterly incomprehensible.

From the haphazardly designed towering skyscrapers that seemed to stretch into the outer atmosphere, to the endless lines of traffic that piled _atop_ each other, every single inch that filed his vision seemed to be utilized and exploited. Looking down he realized that he wasn't even on ground level, the traffic passing constantly below streamed relentlessly, obscuring his vision, he couldn't even _see_ the ground. Distantly it occurred to him that, at any given second, he would be able to look at more people than resided on Tatooine. As Coruscant's sun was setting in the distance the sky was awash with an orange glow, the last vestiges of pure sunlight could still be seen bathing the taller skyscrapers near their tops.

Suddenly he caught his own reflection in the glass, a shadow, dimly portrayed, as if mist. He was encased in the orange light, his black robes shimmering as the light reflected of the dust they had accumulated on his clothes. His brown cloak and boots were dull, almost invisible. Right hand holding his sack over his shoulder, left hand poised to grip a Lightsaber at an instances notice. His hair was held behind his ears, his blue eyes almost comically wide, the expression on his face was one of fright. He was intimidated, he realized, by the sheer magnitude of this planet-city.

With pure determination he collected himself and, vaguely recalling directions from Qui-Gon, turned to his left where in the distance he could see an elevator. As he let the steady current of the crowds carry him forward he decided that now was as good a time as any to check his Force shields. His mentor had surprised him by appearing suddenly, while he was en route to Coruscant, cautioning him against moving freely around his destination without adequate protection in place. He had been adamant about making sure his Force signature was hidden, apparently for his own protection. So that, as Qui-Gon had put it, 'Anyone searching within the force for a change in such things would be none the wiser to your arrival, whether the person doing the searching was doing it with malice intent or not.'

The only frustrating part of the whole exercise, apart from explaining to his fellow passengers why had jumped at Qui-Gons unexpected appearance, was that he had already planned on doing so. But then again his mother had always told him to do things that he had already been planning to do, so why should Qui-Gon be any different? So, as he walked alongside the massive blue transport towards the elevator, he checked his shields. The tight, overlapping, walls were the strongest he could make. They shielded his mind from intrusion and, just as effectively, they removed his signature from the Force. To any other Force user he what appear as a normal person, at least that was what Qui-Gon had told him. Having never meant one he could not be sure himself, Qui-Gon hardly counted, the man was appearing from the netherworld for Force sake.

He pulled himself out of the flowing stream and into the open doors of the elevator. As quickly as possible he made his way to the back, but not before checking that this elevator was heading to the ground floor, the last thing he needed now was to be floor hopping for the next half hour. As the limited space filled up and he was once again left feeling agitated by the lack of room as the doors slid shut, he reached out with the Force to take in his surroundings and, after feeling no warnings through the Force about the people in the elevator, waded deeper than he previously had, searching for what he had glimpsed earlier.

The feeling of the descending in an elevator at high speeds was soon matched by the feeling in the pit of his stomach. What he saw, or rather what he felt, made him uneasy. 'So this is why Qui-Gon was so high strung, because of this…… whatever it is.' The Force itself was ….. _darker _here, as if a shadow lay over pure water. It still seemed the same, calm, smooth and peaceful but it was as if it could, at any moment; change into raging torrents, sweeping all before it.

Impossible, he knew, but the feeling was still there. Almost immediately he knew what it meant and he could imagine the words coming out of Qui-Gons mouth in his rich voice, 'this is the effect of the dark side of the Force, a shroud that suffocates the light, bringing darkness to all it touches.' He had felt none of it on Tatooine, but as he had come closer to the core he had begun to feel it. At first he though it was just his imagination. On Naboo he had felt a whisker of something, an impression, but he had dismissed it. Now there was no doubt in his mind, there was something terribly wrong in the Galaxy, and more so with Coruscant. Qui-Gon asking him to come here and baby-sit an old friend seemed far more reasonable now, even understandable. It may have been caused by the war, he could almost fool himself into thinking so, but he knew, the darkness indicated the influence of the Sith.

As the Elevator reached the ground floor and he headed for the doors he was for once glad at Qui-Gons nagging, although he would have put his Force shields up, there was a chance, however slim, that he would have forgotten. Or that he would only be putting them in place now, after feeling what was in the force, perhaps to late. If the Sith were here or had supporters anywhere on or near Coruscant, then the last thing he wanted was to come to their attention. The war was not his fight, never would be, he wasn't even a republic citizen, though now technically he was. The only way it ever would be, he reflected, was if either the Sith or Jedi did something to drag him into it, even then he would only fight long enough to extricate himself, to gain his freedom once more. It was something to precise not to fight for and now that he had felt its wonderful serenity, something he was determined to never lose again.

As he passed through the door his first thought was of the blissfully cool mid afternoon air that hit is face. His second was what the hell happened to Coruscant? Were had the Coruscant he had seen from the space port evaporated to? From there it had seemed a new, clean, modern city with industrially influenced architecture, full of opportunity that glowed with promise in the sunlight. From ground level it was, derelict, dirty and dark, the only light source been artificial. And whatever in the name of the force that smell was, it wasn't pleasant. The people, be they human or otherwise, looked ragged and lifeless, hard and unforgiving. Looking up he could just barely make out patches of the sky between overhanging buildings and the lines of airspeeders and transports. It was as if there were two Coruscant's, one that started a mile-high for the rich and famous, the other on ground level, where the poor people live and the sunlight never reaches.

Sensing in the Force that this was indeed where he was meant to be and remembering the directions he had been given that his new …. _employer_ was in a building in the direction of the senate, which he recalled been to his right, he quickly got his bearings and trusting in the Forces guidance, started down the road the force wanted him to take. After all, it was apparently his ally, not his master, as Qui-Gon had so often had to point out; it had to work for him eventually.

He had not gone ten paces before someone had come up to him to offer him to sell him a deathstick, whatever that was, which he declined as politely as possible, but not before his personal deathstick salesman had attempted to discreetly rob him. He hadn't needed the Force's warnings to know what was happening and one knowing glare had been enough to send the man on his way. Something he was glad of, starting a fight within ten paces after coming out of a space port would have been a new record for him. 'Just,' he added mentally before chuckling to himself.

Not wanting to attract anymore personal assistances and wanting to scare of any would be muggers; he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, leaving his face in darkness. Hoping he looked threatening he started of again towards the senate building. Keeping as much to himself as possible, he avoided all the randomly placed vents that were pouring steam up into the air, avoided offending the beggars and the shop keepers who yelled the wares out hoping to attract business. The noise of the place was unlike anything he had ever heard, a buzz that never ceased. It grew louder every time he approached a cantina, or workshop and faded back into the normal dull roar when one receded into the distance. Visually it was an assault to his sensors, neon lights were flashing everywhere, be they names of establishments or warnings. Screens' playing what was on the holovid where spewing forth random bits of information, none of which interested him and he barely paid it any attention, until, that is, a news report came on about a certain senator from Naboo.

The woman reading the news had been talking about something as he had been passing the screen, and by chance he had looked up as the screen changed from the newsreader to a video of the story and he froze. For the life of him he couldn't have said what that story was about, or what the newsreader was saying even when he was paying attention. It was a slow frame recording of Amidala in the senate, as if it was too short to be played at real speed and still let the newsreader finish the script. It was the first time he had seen her in over decade and he was momentarily stunned. When he had last seen her she had been but a girl, now he looked at the women and the change shocked him, all thoughts of the past evaporated from his mind. Her long her cascaded down her back and a smile danced across her lips, lighting up her face, making her big brown eyes shine. Force she was beautiful, she-. The thought died though as a little voice began incredulously in the back of his mind, growing louder as it gained provenance, 'what the hell are you thinking Skywalker? Get a hold of yourself. Forget how she looks, she still left you to rot on Tatooine, despite all you did for her. She does not deserve your admiration, not now, not ever.'

Letting the sense of resentment rush through him, as it always did when he thought of her, he turned away from the screen. He felt a small pang of regret at having done so but managed to convince himself he didn't want to look at her any longer and even if he did, he was pretty sure he would be sick of the sight of her before too long anyhow. He hadn't taken a step however before a desperate plea reached him through the Force, something needed his help and whatever it was it was coming from the alleyway beside the screen he had just been watching. Distantly wondering if he had stopped because of what was on the screen or because his 'ally' needed him and he had arrived a few minutes early, he cautiously started up the alleyway. 'Besides,' he though grimly, 'at least this will take my mind of Amidala.'

As he moved further up the alleyway the street quickly disappeared behind him, silently praying that whatever it was he could handle himself, and as the sound of a wailing reached his ears, then two smacks and a rough voice shouting, he quietly put down his bag to free both his arms. Checking that both Lightsabers were within easy reach and were easily able to be removed, he started forward once more. The scene that eventually meant his eyes filled him with disgust.

A tall, heavily muscled man was holding a child by the hair while a heavy set man with a dark black beard was swinging a backhanded slap at the child. As the hand made contact a loud smack echoed in the confined alleyway, followed by another wail. To Anakin's horror black beard didn't seem finished, and recalling just how many smacks he had heard as he had come closer, didn't seem like he was going to stop for a while yet. The child on the other hand looked a mess, sagging as if the only thing holding it up was the hand in its hair, it was shaking and crying, while at the same time was trying to shield its face with its arms. The loud moans that were coming from the little mouth were heartbreaking. The force was pleading with him to help the child.

So as black beard shouted, "'ever do it again, you good for 'othing waste of space, do you hear me?" and his hand reached the pinnacle of its arch, and started it's downwards path once more Anakin decided that now would be a good a time as any.

"Hey," he shouted, "what do you think your doing?" the hand stopped in mid air, thankfully, before both man turned, startled and glared at him. When they saw it was only him black beard sneered and muscles started laughing.

"Run along boy," black beard said angrily, his eyes flashing, "this is between me and the runt, you hear, leave, unless you want some yourself." He finished with a smirk, as if he thought Anakin would do what he wanted and enjoyed the feeling of power that gave him.

Muscles was doing his best to intimidate him, holding the child in one hand and trying his best to look threatening. But as black beard noticed he wasn't going anywhere he slowly turned from the child and straightened to his full height, before trying again, "You hear me boy? This runt tried to stow away on my ship, needs to be taught a lesson, it does," he indicated the weeping child as if that was proof, before continuing in a quite voice, "Head back the other way, unless you want trouble."

The child was watching him now, sending him a pleading look. The eyes were green he saw, funny what you notice at times like this. For his part Anakin just stood their trying to decide how to solve this, he could try diplomacy, what Qui-Gon would have wanted, but he didn't think someone who likes hitting kids would respond well to that, on the other hand there was strength and then it was simply a matter of which kind. Sighing he tried diplomacy, "Don't you think you've done enough? I'm pretty sure it won't be stowing away on your ship anytime soon."

His mother had always said that sarcasm was not the answer and judging by the reactions he got she was right. Muscles tossed the child into the wall as he laughed, before mumbling something, it sounded like 'I'm gonna enjoy this' but he couldn't be sure. Black beard just sneered and started rolling up his sleeves before saying "'ave it your way then," before both slowly advanced towards him.

He knew that a Jedi would have tried a simple mind trick at this juncture but he was no Jedi. His personal philosophy ran something like, if people wanted to be assholes they deserved what they got, after all, why do the crime if you can't do the time? As the two slowly advanced and the child watched on fearfully from where it had been tossed, Anakin was desperately trying to decide which form of strength to use. Quickly deciding that a Lightsaber would be too heavy handed, and he didn't think they should die for what they had been doing, he raised his right hand, drew the Force into him, which he soaked up like water on the sands of Tatooine, and pushed.

As if a giant had kicked them as hard as he could, muscles and black beard went flying backwards, up into the air before hitting the wall a good thirty meters away, where the alleyway turned to the right, and crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Through the force he could sense they had no serious injuries, just a few cracked ribs and concussions. Just punishment for beating up a small child he decided, speaking of which, the child was now looking at _him _as if terrified, realizing that it had no idea what it had just seen and was now sacred of him, he tried to ease its fears, he raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes as far as they would go in what he hoped would be a comical expression and said with a smile on his face, "Whoops."

Nothing. Not one giggle, not even a hint of a smile or the flicker of an eyebrow, nothing. Deciding to try a different tactic he moved towards the child, which he now saw was a little girl, and squatted down to her eye level. Or at least he tried to, that is. As he moved closer she moved away scrambling back until her back was pushed against the wall, she was looking around as a caged animal would, looking for a place to run. As he got a better look at her, his heart broke all over again. She was the dirtiest child he had ever seen, tattered clothes, no shoes, her hands and feet where almost black with the soot that covered this part of Coruscant and she had smudges on her checks that her tears had made tracks through. Her brown hair would have been curly had it not been so dirty, and not so short. She had scrapes and bruises all over her, they only normal thing about her seemed to be her eyes, which blazed a brilliant green. Eye's that seemed to be open as far as they would go, eye's that were terrified. She was a street kid he decided, probably had no place to go.

He sat down in front of her and asked in a gentle voice, "What's your name?" The only response he got was for her to swallow, hard, and try to push herself further into the wall. Sighing he tried again, "How old are you, you can't be more than five?"

That got the response he had been looking for; she forgot to be scared as indignation flooded her small features and she found her voice, "Am not, I'm 'even" and she held up eight fingers as if to prove her point.

Anakin chuckled as he replied, "So you are, my mistake." She didn't look seven, but he supposed that a life on the streets was not conducive to being well nourished. As he spoke she went back to been frightened, the terrified light reentered her eyes. Sighing he continued, "Are you hungry I'm sure I have something back here," he turned to his back pack, too late remembering that he had left it behind, and, as he turned back to find himself sitting alone on the ground, to late he remembered that she had been looking for a way out. As the sound of the girls retreating footsteps could be heard echoing down the alleyway as she ran, he shoke his head sadly before picking himself up and starting back the way he had come. After finding his back pack he once more began the long walk towards Amidala's apartment. Ironically, he realized, in a world so full of people, he had never felt so alone.

It wasn't until half an hour later that he realized he had a shadow and it wasn't until an hour later that he found himself at Amidala's building been told come up to the top floor through the intercom. Looking up he smiled darkly, 'Of course she lived above a mile-high, looking at that thing she's way above it.' As the door slid open he decided to have a little fun, he turned to where his shadow was 'hiding' waved and yelled, "See ya later, green eyes!" He was rewarded with a shriek and the brown hair quickly disappeared from view. Chuckling he stepped through the open door and walked down the small corridor to the evaluator.

He quickly sobered up as he realized just who would be waiting at the top of the building. As he stepped into the elevator and punched the number of the highest floor he double checked that his Lightsabers weren't showing. Ever so quickly, too quickly, the elevator was running up the side of the building and as it neared the top his thought process had evaporated into a string of huttese curses, every single damn one he knew. This was the last thing he wanted. He didn't hate her exactly, just disliked her. Extremely disliked her. She was the one person he had ever met that had the means to help him, especially after he had helped her, and she had not. In truth he wanted nothing to do with her, but Qui-Gon had asked. Touching the necklace he wore again, he calmed himself, he didn't have to like her to keep her alive, 'Just think of the money Skywalker,' he told himself, 'just think of the money and you'll be fine.'

Far too soon the doors hissed open and to his eternal surprise, he came face to face with Amidala and just like that she was back in his life. As her eyes' fell on him a smile graced her face, somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that she was flanked by what seemed to be a large security detail and what he would later refer to as handmaidens. Unable to do anymore than frown, as a cold feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach, he watched as she studied him. He also noted that the holovid could not do her justice. She nodded once to herself than addressed him, "You must be Mister Walker," she paused and he nodded, the cold feeling vanished as quickly as it had come, he had been afraid she would recognize him he realized. Mentally laughing to himself at how irrational it would be for her to recognize the nine year old boy she had met on Tatooine as him, he listened as she introduced herself, "I'm Padme Amidala."

His response came far too coolly, but he could do nothing to warm his voice, he was gazing at a vision that had tormented him for so long, "Senator." He gave a small bow to go with it, hating himself for doing it, and then looked questionably behind her, "is something wrong?"

She frowned at his tone then at his question before realizing exactly what he meant, "Oh no, we," she gestured to the man behind her, "were just leaving, a session of the senate is scheduled to start soon. But please call me Padme, at least when your not in uniform," she finished with a small smile. He decided he never would, just because she had asked. Then his gaze fell on the guards and all other thoughts left his head, he heard Amidala giggling softly at the expression on his face.

"Those are the uniforms?" he questioned in dismay, as he brought his eyes back to her face, only to see her unsuccessfully struggling not to laugh, eventually she had to resort to holding a hand over her mouth as she nodded. The other guards were glaring at him but he didn't care the uniforms were….. _purple_. And, oh Force, it even had a hat, that just so happened to be purple as well. He was going to have to wear _that?_ 'Qui-Gon,' he mentally shouted into the Force in desperation, 'Qui-Gon if you're watching this isn't funny. You never mentioned uniforms, if they can even be called that.' There was, of course, no response.

"Ah, they're …._nice_?" he tried, only to see her snort. This time she bite her lip to keep from laughing and avoided looking at him, it seemed the floor had suddenly become interesting. In the end it was a man he would later come to know as Typho that rescued them both.

"Milady, if we don't leave now we're going to be late," he said and she nodded and entered the elevator, then he address him, "Owen, if you don't mind me calling you that, why don't you wait here for us to return? We'll fill you in on everything when we get back." He nodded dumbly and stepped out of the elevator as they filed in.

As he turned back to look at them he noticed that the guards were still glaring at him, and for some reason one of the woman was smiling broadly, though it was Amidala that addressed him, "We'll be back in a few hours, why don't you have Artoo show you around?" at his confused expression she indicated a small blue and white astromech droid that he hadn't noticed before. From the dusty recess of his mind he recalled having seen this droid before, his full designation was Artoo Detoo, if memory served him correctly. At the mention of his name Artoo let of a low whistle then a series of beeps. Anakin acknowledged him absently with a wave of his hand.

"Sure, sounds like fun," he replied with more confidence than he felt, "I guess I'll see you when you return?" Amidala just nodded and as the doors slid shut he noted that there was still a small grin on her face. As soon as they were alone Artoo extend his front wheel and started moving away, apparently to start to tour. Anakin ignored him for the moment, there was only one thought running through his head as he spun around, trying to get his bearings, 'What in the name of the Force had just happened?'

A/N: please read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Lucas owns everything, my sister owns his DVDs.

A/N: I hope you all like this chapter and thanks again to Tony for reviewing, thanks for letting me know what you liked about the chapter.

'A child conceived of the Force itself,' it was a thought that haunted Qui-Gon Jinn to this day. The will of the Force made into flesh. However, like all men it was flawed, it was imperfect. At the heart of this creation, in the middle of that massive concentration of power, stood a man, and like all men, he had his own desires. The desire to be free, to follow his own path, be it right or wrong, flowed through the one that prophecy had named 'Chosen'. The Force's special disciple, its own child, the Chosen One destined to bring balance to an otherwise turbulent universe, balance to the Force itself.

When Qui-Gon had first witnessed the Chosen One in perfect meditation, a feat few could achieve, it had taken his breath away. The lines had blurred between where Anakin Skywalker's Force signature had existed and the Force that had surrounded Anakin began, such a perfect conduit had never existed. His Force signature, usually a brilliant white light, had gained an intensity that was unimaginable, that seared his Force senses to witness. The Force flowed through its Chosen One as if it was still in its natural state, as if it was simply coming home, allowed into a place that was merely a natural repository. Qui-Gon had encouraged Anakin to focus on his heart; he had meant it as a metaphor, to get Anakin to view his own desires with the Forces guidance. Anakin had taken his urgings literally and, that first time, Qui-Gon had been unwilling to correct his mistake.

As Anakin focused on his heart, and subsequently his heat beat, the Force had responded. In the area surrounding Anakin the Force itself gained a heart beat, with each contraction and expansion of Anakin's heart muscles the Force contracted and expanded. It would wash out through the Force like waves on a beach, moving slowing at first then gaining speed and finally dieing as cascading breakers hitting the sand miles away. Qui-Gon, in his present state, had been able to feel the Force wash _through_ him, time and again.

Qui-Gon was reminded of this as he took in the view from Anakin's quarters, reminded of that feeling, of having the Force thump through him over and over again. He was reminded because of what it signified, that which is uncontrollable, incomprehensible, even to those that possess it, the human heart and soul. As the Force has two sides, each equally powerful, good and evil, light and dark, right and wrong, black and white, so does the heart and soul of a human being. It is ones ability to reason that determines what path one takes through life, that all-important commodity, the ability to reason.

At one time Qui-Gon questioned the Forces wisdom in where it choose its child to be born, he did not now. 'Those that cannot love, lust yes, but never love.' In itself it seems a simple statement, but when it is the Chosen Ones reasoned definition of evil, it becomes something else entirely, fascinating yet amazingly rational. It was the product of a conversation concerning the views of the Sith and Jedi, a conversation that had been prompted by Anakins question about the nonexistence of love, he could still hear it now, 'How can the Sith and Jedi be all encompassing, yet love, the most important of emotions, exist to neither?' his voice had been quiet, as if he had wanted to ask this question for a long time. It was why Anakin would probably never view himself as a Jedi, despite who his mentor had been.

When Qui-Gon had studiously begun to remind Anakin of the dangers of love, of the attachment, Anakin had merely shook his head and, smiling a little, replied, 'Perhaps with infatuation or lust, Qui-Gon, for they are weaker emotions, they stem from the minds desire to have something purely for selfish reasons. But love, Qui-Gon, to embrace the darkness because of love, true love, would be defilement, a betrayal of that love. Love would no longer exist. True love should be a shield against the darkness Qui-Gon; both cannot be embraced at the same time.' That had been a year ago.

He had been unable to sway Anakin from this train of thought, unable to convince him that spurned love, betrayed love and unrequited love were all paths to the darkness, let alone the inherent dangers of the mere attachment that would result from such a successful relationship. But now he knew why. It was that intended flaw, that imperfection of the human soul, which the force had demanded exist within its Chosen One. In the act of creating a Chosen One the Force must maintain balance, for there is both a light and dark side to the Force. If the light side of the Force created a champion for itself, the dark side, to maintain balance, would have to create one of its own. One's action would nullify the other.

Qui-Gon had come to understand that for the Force as a whole to create a Chosen One, one had to be created that would maintain the balance within _itself_, it would have to be affiliated with neither the light or dark due to its childhood and, upon reaching adulthood, could _choose_ for itself which path to take. Hence Anakins childhood, one of balance, Anakin could see slavery as something evil that he must be eradicated or he could see his time as a slave as something that he will never suffer again and seek power in order to make sure it can never happen, so he can be the ruler not the ruled. That was why Anakin was born a slave on Tatooine and not in the republic where he would have been taken to the temple as an infant, almost eliminating the chance for the darkness, destroying the balance. That did not mean that if Anakin did something good he had to do something evil as a balance, the _chance_ just had to exist for either to occur for the balance to be maintained.

Watching Coruscant's sun move ever closer to the horizon, as he had so many times before, Qui-Gon sighed, frustrated. He knew his part in Anakins life was merely one of a guide, a teacher that both the light and dark had allowed. After all, an untrained Chosen One was useless to both the light and the dark. And been dead meant he could not directly interfere with Anakins decisions, he could force the boy to do nothing, just hope he did what was right. That was where Qui-Gon thoughts rested most often of late, that Anakin choose to do what was right, that he would follow the path that led him to the light, the results of Anakin choosing the darkness would be …devastating. The boy did not have the power, at least not yet, to eliminate either side himself if he chose to, but Qui-Gon sensed that he would eventually cast the deciding vote one way or the other. How that may be he could not say, the dark side was clouding everythi-.

His thoughts cut off as an amused voice shattered the silence, "I thought breaking and entering was a crime, far below you Master Qui-Gon Jinn." The Chosen One had also developed sarcasm from somewhere, much to his dismay.

He turned from the window and looked across the living room of Anakins new apartment, one of the perks of his new job, to see Anakin standing just inside the doorway, hands on hips, a smile lighting up his face. How did he not hear the door sliding open? Or closed for that matter? Deciding not to dignify the boys good humored taunting of his current deceased state he raised a single eyebrow and replied, "Nice hat."

The smirk vanished, quite satisfactorily, the amusement left him all together, replaced with something…bitterness. Anakin immediately snatched the purple, blue and black contraption of his head before flinging it onto the couch. He took a few more steps into the room and, while gesturing at himself with his hands, and accused, "You knew about this didn't you? This…. I don't know how to describe it, horrendous I suppose, uniform; this is your idea of a joke?"

A little bit of anger had entered Anakins tone, something he most definitely didn't like. Instead of voicing his concerns, however, he replied in a level voice, "I knew you would have to wear a uniform but I didn't take any notice of it. What it looked like was hardly my primary concern, now was it?"

"No, I don't suppose it was," Anakin grumbled, then insisted "But even you have to admit that this is horrendous, undignified!"

Taking a look at the uniform and how the thing sat he was forced to agree, "Yes, I would have to agree," a smirk found its way on to his lips despite his best efforts to stop it, "it would indeed be undignified, for a Jedi. It is just as well you are not one now isn't it?" Anakin just glared.

Deciding that now would be a good time to change the topic, the last thing he wanted to do was upset Anakin needlessly, Qui-Gon shifted the conversation to that topic of which he had come to talk to him about, '_well one of them at least_' he reminded himself. "In any event that is not why I'm here," he stopped and sighed before continuing, "I want to talk to you about what you did two days ago, on your way here."

"What? You mean with that girl?" Anakin questioned in a startled voice before moving to the kitchen of his apartment and getting himself a drink.

Qui-Gon nodded and moved to stand before Anakin, trying to decide how best to describe what exactly his concerns were in a way that would not upset Anakin. In a voice that sounded far more confident then he felt he began, "Anakin your actions where…heavy handed. You didn't need to do what you did in orde-" he got no further as he was cut off.

"Are you saying that I shouldn't have helped that girl?" he asked in a disbelieving voice as he flopped down onto the couch beside his discarded hat.

"No that is not it at all, if you had just let me finish," irritation was evident in his movements before he visibly calmed himself and continued, "it was not _what_ you did, saving that little girl from been beaten was commendable, but _how_ you did it."

"You wish that I had just used a mind trick?" Anakin sighed dejectedly. He sat back in his chair, no longer looking comfortable. This was not the reaction that Qui-Gon had been hopping for, nor was it the reaction that he had expected. He thought that by now he would be angrily defending himself. There was obviously something bothering Anakin about what he did.

"Yes, if at all possible," he began carefully watching for any sign of what was annoying him as he continued. "Throwing them into a wall thirty meters away could have seriously injured them, it was irresponsible and, event though they where hitting a child, uncalled for in the situation."

Anakin brought both hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes warily before replying in a quiet, sullen voice, "At least I didn't use my Lightsaber." Qui-Gon nodded his head though Anakin didn't see it, with his head buried in his hands, starring at the floor. He didn't think Anakin would have been able to handle himself in a real fight with a Lightsaber yet, but that discussion was for later, he was just about too verbally agree with his statement when he spoke again, "I didn't mean to do it Qui-Gon, I'm not sorry about them breaking a few ribs but I didn't mean to do it."

"How could you not have meant to do it," he began in a confused voice, was the boy trying to lie to him? "I felt the whole thing Anakin. I know you purposely threw those men with the Force. That was your intention was it not?"

"Yes it was my intention to throw them," he answered, then brought his face up to look directly at Qui-Gon, a troubled look in his eyes, "just not that far."

"What do you mean, did you lose control?" It was possible, though rare, for Force users to not be in complete control of what they are doing sometimes.

If anything, the boy began to look more troubled, "That's just it, I felt the entire time as if I knew _exactly_ what I was doing, that I was in complete control. I intended them to fly back about ten meters before sliding down the alleyway. I hoped that would scare them off and they would run away. At the time I was to worried about the girl to give it to much thought but the more I think about it, the more troubling it gets." He stopped, as if collecting his thoughts.

An inkling of an answer was whispering to Qui-Gon, something he thought Anakin wouldn't have to deal with anymore but he had to be sure, "Are you sure you didn't do anything differently then I taught you, that they just went further than you intended?"

"I know I don't throw people, or anything for that matter, around often," he began, almost sounding offended by having his abilities questioned, "but it should not have happened. I did what I normally do Qui-Gon, the way you taught me; it was just as if _more _of the Force responded to what I wanted it to do than it ever had before."

Relief flooded Qui-Gon as he looked down at his young friend, relief that he wasn't using the Force in a violent manner against the near defenseless, at least not intentionally, relief that he was not slowly slipping into the darkness. With a smile on his face he took the seat next to Anakin and in his most reassuring voice said, "That is a very good way of describing it Anakin, more of the Force responding to what you wanted it to do." At Anakins confused look, he continued, "I had thought you were past this but it seems your not. Anakin, all that occurred was an increase in your strength in the Force; your Force abilities are growing."

"Oh," he said in a startled voice, "so all that's happened is that I've grown more powerful?" At Qui-Gons nod he continued with a small grin on his face, "Why didn't you tell me something like this might happen? It would have saved me a lot of worrying."

Qui-Gon chuckled and he had to think about it a moment before he answered, "Truthfully I haven't heard of anything like this before, Anakin. Had you been a Jedi, or even a Force user who used the Force regularly, the increase in your strength would have been gradual and slow. You would barely have noticed it occurring but as it stands you hardly use the Force to do anything physically at all." He paused and looked directly at Anakin to make sure he understood, "It stands to reason that your strength in the Force would still grow and over a period of time of not been used it would appear to you that your strength had dramatically increased, which is obviously what occurred here."

The wariness that had been seemingly been etched permanently on Anakins face since he entered the room disappeared, replaced with a large grin. "So all I need to do is practice to get used to my new strength?" Again Qui-Gon just nodded and Anakin continued, "Perhaps one day I will grow more powerful than you Qui-Gon and I will have things to teach you," he said, while laughing at the irony of that situation. Qui-Gon had no doubt that he would grow more powerful then he ever was, if he wasn't already. "Perhaps I will meet this Yoda that you're always going on about and he and I will gang up on you."

Qui-Gon laughed, more at the thought of Anakin and Yoda meeting, than the image of having both Yoda and Anakin give him a lecture. Qui-Gon sobered quickly however, Anakin had given him an opening there, whether he knew it or not, and he intended to use it. "In your effort to become more powerful than me I suppose you won't mind that I have arranged for you to have some Lightsaber training in the temple? It will also give you a safe environment to explore the limits of your new found strength."

The grin on Anakins face slowly withered, he looked to be considering what Qui-Gon had said. "Not that I'm not grateful for the opportunity but why do I need saber practice? You said I know the Forms already and won't this not help the whole staying unnoticed thing that you wanted?"

"It's one thing to know the forms, my friend, it's quite another to face a Force user in physical combat, even someone not using a Lightsaber. The physical impact on your arms, the impact to your stamina and the unpredictability of any sentient creature all make knowing the forms just a small part of what you need to learn." Qui-Gon hoped Anakin was taking him seriously; he hoped he would have to push him to do what in the end was best for him. "To become truly skilled with a Lightsaber one needs to practice against another Force user, preferably a Jedi. Without such training you would be easy prey if you happen to stumble upon the Sith."

Anakin looked sharply at Qui-Gon, "You still believe that the Sith are behind the Attacks on Amidala?" he nodded, "Truthfully, you're not just saying that to get me into the temple to learn?" As Qui-Gon nodded again he let out a long drawn out breath, then continued, "Well what about staying out of the view of the Sith, won't me walking into the temple be seen by them as a little suspicious? And what about my trainer, won't they be curious about me also?"

"I have arranged for my old Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, to be your teacher. Only he and Yoda will know about you as you will be trained in one of the private rooms, so exposure within the temple will be limited to just them as long as you keep a low profile. Yoda knows about you; as you already know, and has agreed to keep his own council on the matter and Obi-Wan has agreed to train you without asking too many questions of your origins. As for the Sith, well unless they are personally keeping a constant watch on Amidala, in which case they probably already know about you, then they will hardly notice what a insignificant guardsmen does in his spare time, they are too rash for that." When he finished Anakin was staring at him suspiciously.

"You seem to have this already figured out. What if you're wrong and I don't need the training? And why do I sense that there is something you're not telling me, something I won't like?" he asked as levelly as he could manage.

"Well if I'm wrong," Qui-Gon started in a voice that clearly indicated he thought he wasn't, "then you have one session and Obi-Wan will tell you that you know enough and that's that. As for the thing that you won't like, well your sessions are scheduled for everyday at five thirty in the morning." Watching Anakins face as those words came out of his mouth was quite amusing, the horror the boy clearly felt at the thought of rising that early was evident in his almost slack jawed expression.

"Five-thirty?" a nod, "In the morning?" another nod, the horror rising with every word, "Every morning?" Again all he needed to do was nod. It was a well-known fact that Anakin Skywalker was not a morning person, a spiel Qui-Gon had had to listen to many times over the years. "You do realize that I start my shift at eight-thirty in the morning, don't you? How do you expect me to guard Amidala properly if I'm falling asleep at the end of my shift?"

"I'm well aware that you have a day shift, because it's the safest one, if a recall correctly. But once you get used to it you will find that it won't impact on your duties to Padme." Just because the boy refused to call her by her name didn't mean he had to also. "It will become as routine to you as it is to the Jedi, or anyone else that does physical exercise for that matter."

Anakin stared at him dubiously for a few moments then hung his head, before he sighed in defeat, "I suppose it can't hurt to try. And I don't doubt that if a Sith shows up I'll be kicking myself that I didn't do what you wanted and learn how to protect myself properly," he looked at Qui-Gon sharply, "And I suppose you will be happier if I know how to defend Amidala from them won't you?"

"I can't say I'd be unhappy," he conceded, "but it is far more beneficial for you then it is for her. Obi-Wan will also be able to help you control your Force powers again, something that comes with learning the saber properly."

"Very well Qui-Gon, I will report to the temple in the morning." He said as he leaned back in his chair, a faint rustling could be heard in the distance but neither man paid it any attention, after all strange noises were common in such buildings.

"That's good to hear, I'll feel better knowing that you have a friend in Obi-Wan that you can turn to if you ever need any help." The boy just nodded silently as if he had already thought of that. "So how are you getting along with Padme? Your feelings towards her from the past are not causing you any trouble when it comes to guarding her?"

A faint smirk lit up the young mans features, "No not at all, I think of her as two different people, the one I knew then and the one I know now, there is no problem, no conflict of interest."

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to reply when a distinctly amused feminine voice burst into the room, "Whom might you be talking about?" A soft laugh could be distinctly heard as Anakin jumped up out of his seat, startled. "Or should I just be more worried that you are talking to yourself Mister Walker?"

A/N: Thanks for reading, please review.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not mine, always Lucas's.

A/N: Thanks to those that have reviewed, I hope you like this chapter.

Mystified, Qui-Gon turned around in the chair to see Padme standing just inside the entrance to Anakins apartment with a bright smile on her face. How had neither of them noticed her entering the room, or sensed her presence growing closer? The only answer that Qui-Gon could come up with was that they had both been distracted; they had both let their guard down.

As the door to the apartment slid shut behind Padme, hiding her ever-present guards from view, Qui-Gon got a good look at her and immediately he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Despite the smile on her face, despite her outward appearance of confidence, he could sense in the Force that she was anything but and the only reason that he could think of for that filled him with apprehension.

Padme was nervous, jittery and anxious. But most importantly, like a small flicking flame that was threatening to grow, hope burned within her. It pained his heart to see, not only because it was there in the first place, but also, because it was directed at Anakin. If things went poorly here, neither of them were going to come out of this unscathed, hence that sinking feeling. It stemmed from the fact that he knew the senator, knew why she was here. She would come and present a front, a plausible reason for her presence that would seemingly be her only reason for been here, but in truth she was here for only one reason; her aching loneliness.

Somehow, for some reason, she saw in Anakin the potential for a friend, a true friend, one that would not be with her because it was their job or because of her station, one that was not trying to court her or trying to get her to drop her guard so an attempt on her life could be made. In truth Padme Amidala was one of the loneliest people he knew. Her dedication to public service had left her with a satisfying purpose in her professional life but, as a result, her private life was empty. All those close to her in her daily life were either there because it was their duty or for political reasons.

Qui-Gon sighed, ironically it seemed that Anakin's distaste for the senator, his almost blatant dislike of anything and everything to do with her, had attracted the senator's attention. It must have been one of the few times in her life when she had met someone who didn't care about her station, who didn't want to know her because of who she was.

It appeared to be that, in her eyes, he seemed to be indifferent to her at almost all times and could be someone that, if a friendship did develop, it would be for no other reason than her personally.

Tearing his eyes away from Padme's fading smile, Qui-Gon reluctantly looked at Anakin and saw what he thought he would, what he hoped beyond hope he would not. Gone was that relaxed, content young man that had been sitting on the couch beside him moments ago. Gone was the smiling, happy man. In his place stood a cold, almost sullen man that seemed to be starring at the senator and wishing that she would just disappear. Through the Force, all he could feel from Anakin was cold indifference.

Anakin had gotten over his surprise at finding her there quite quickly it seemed and, when he spoke, there was no trace of uncertainty in his voice, "Sorry Milady, I was just thinking aloud," he stopped and looked questionably at the door, "I didn't hear you come in, is there something you need?"

Padme shook her head and began her cover story, quite innocently and convincingly in Qui-Gons' opinion, "No Owen, I just came down to see how you where settling in, I'm sorry for barging in unannounced, I just have grown accustomed to not knocking." She raised an eyebrow and continued in a mock serious voice, "And remember please call me Padme when you're out of uniform." At Anakin's pointed look down at his purple top she added, "Or at least off duty."

This time a small amount of agitation entered Anakins voice as he replied, "I'm sorry Milady, I just don't think I can do that yet. It might be too soon. Perhaps with time." The boys' stubborn refusal to call her by name was annoying and his new way of being rebellious. Qui-Gon didn't see the point but perhaps there was something in it, considering his own admission that he thought of her as two different people.

Padme nodded in response, missing entirely the tone that Qui-Gon had heard in his voice that suggested that 'with time' in fact meant never. Undeterred, she pressed on as she moved further into the room, her blue dress swishing against the carpet as she moved, "So how do you like the apartment, is it satisfactory?"

Anakins eyes followed her as she moved, if Qui-Gon didn't know any better he would have said he was captivated, rather than determined to keep his secrets. At her words he briefly glanced around the apartment and a small light of happiness entered his eyes. Qui-Gon was sure he had never lived in anything better, "More than satisfactory Milady," he replied, "it has bee a long time since I have lived in such comfort." Qui-Gon had to suppress a snort at that understatement. The boy had been lucky if he had had a room to himself at all, now he had an apartment that was designed to be capable of housing the family of a guardsman all to himself, albeit a small family. The place was nicely furnished and had two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and its own large garage down in the hanger.

"Oh, was it not very comfortable in the outer-rim with your family?" she questioned in light surprise. Clearly she had not been expecting that answer.

It took Anakin a few seconds to work out what she meant; Qui-Gon could have sworn that he opened his mouth once to ask her what she was talking about before he remembered his cover story. Once he realized what she was saying though he quickly caught on and saved himself, "Ah no, it wasn't, it was a trading company that my dad operated. We were always on one ship or another crammed in with the cargo, always traveling and always sacrificing personal comfort for profit. It's nice to have some space to myself for a change." Qui-Gon had to hand it to him, it was quite convincing and as an added bonus one of his masters had operated a small trading company in the outer-rim, until, that was, he went to far.

"Well I'm glad to hear you like it then," she paused and, after staring briefly at Anakin, moved the conversation to something a little more personal. "That is an interesting necklace you wear," she said, giving it a pointed look, "I don't believe I have ever seen anything like it. Where did you get it?"

Why, oh why, did she have to choose that as her choice to try and get to know him better? Qui-Gon careful looked at Anakin and was relived to see that a smile ironic smile was on his face. Perhaps he wouldn't take it so badly after all. "I didn't buy it Milady, I ah… made it when I was a boy."

"A little boy who wanted a necklace, very interesting Owen," she said, her voice slightly teasing.

Anakin brought his hand up to clasp the necklace and brought it in front of his face so he could study it momentarily before he dropped it and replied defensively, "It wasn't for me. I made it for someone else."

Padme mellowed before replying in a soft voice, "I'm sorry, I was only joking. But why, if you made if for someone else, do you still have it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't mind," he said in a gruff voice that clearly indicated he didn't want to talk about it, "She turned out to be someone other than I thought she was. I wear it for that reason, to remind myself that people aren't always what they seem."

By the end Qui-Gon could clearly feel his animosity towards Padme growing, the heat in his eyes was escalating. Not able to stay silent any longer Qui-Gon sent through the Force the beginnings of an old argument, "_Forgiveness can be very powerful Anakin_."

Padme was nodding her head while she replied, "Yes I have found that also, it's important to always remember that."

Looking directly into Padme's eyes, Anakin responded in a quite voice, "Yes, it is." While to Qui-Gon a far hotter and passionate reply came through the Force, one that was far too angry, "_How can I forgive her, Qui-Gon, when in her mind she is still doing what you would ask me to forgive? She left me there and in her mind I'm still there. Yet still she does nothing. How can I possibly forgive her_?"

Qui-Gon sighed and decide now wasn't a good time to start this argument, they had had it many times before and no one had won yet. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a gleam of silver lying on the couch beside him and froze. How did that get there?

Before he could say anything though, Padme continued, "Well that's good. How are you finding guarding me, not to boring I hope"

As Padme started moving closer again Qui-Gon called out in alarm, "_Anakin, the couch_" he had been about to reply to Padme when his cry reached him, he paused momentarily and briefly looked at the couch. As he eyes fell on one of his Lightsabers resting there innocently beside his hat, his eyes widened slightly. He discreetly checked his sides to see which one was missing before turning to Padme and replying in a distracted voice, "Boring? Why would you say that?"

All Qui-Gon could hear from Anakin through the Force was string of huttese curses, one after the other, broken by panicked mumblings every now and then. One that he caught thanking the Force that Padme was so small, or she would be able to see the Lightsaber over the back of the couch by now. Padme's voice broke in on both their thoughts, "Well I would hardly call standing around all day exciting, and then there is the senate…"

Qui-Gon could feel Anakins relief through the Force, apparently he had just been given an opening. With his left hand he pointed out the window, and said in an incredulous voice that Qui-Gon was sure contained all the amusement he could manage, "That senate?" As soon as Padme's head was turned far enough away from the couch Anakin's right hand shot out in a sharp, quick gesture that sent his Lightsaber and hat flying of the couch and into his room. They hit the wall with a loud smack before the Lightsaber rolled under his bed, neatly hidden from view.

Unable to help himself as Padme's head whipped he noted wryly "_Still not in control I see_".

"Yes that senate," Padme replied while gazing curiously into his room. "What was that?"

To Padme he replied, "Oh nothing I was just putting my hat away," which earned a frown so he quickly decided to change the subject, "I don't know what you mean, I never knew the Senate was so exciting, I always imagined it would be dull and full of hypocrites." There was a small smile on his face; Qui-Gon knew he was relaxing after getting away from a potentially dangerous situation but that didn't spare him though as his reply came through the Force, "_Of course I am, Qui-Gon, I fully intended to make a bang loud enough to wake the dead whilst hiding my Lightsaber from the senator_," sarcasm dripping from every word. Qui-Gon ruefully shook his head and decided that he would stay silent for a while.

Anakin's change of topic seemed to do the trick as Padme responded, "Well I wouldn't say it was… wait," she paused for a moment then a tentative smile formed on her lips, "Are you teasing me?" She moved around the couch and came closer to Anakin so she could see his face better as he responded.

For his part Anakin played his role to perfection, seemingly without thinking what he was doing, for the first time Qui-Gon could remember he was being himself with the senator. "No," he denied far too emphatically, a hint of amusement reflecting in his eyes, "I'd be much too frightened to tease a senator."

"You are teasing me," she said, while playfully reaching out and hitting him on the arm, her voice was now broken by laughter. "Despite what you think I am not dull, nor am I a hypocrite". The tentative grin that had been on her face was now blooming in full force and, again, Qui-Gon noted a small feeling of hope emanating from her towards Anakin. All he felt was pity. He was certain she was about to be crushed.

As the sound of her laughter filled the room Anakin's full attention was drawn back to Padme, his eyes flashing dangerously when she denied been a hypocrite. All at once he seemed to realize that he had let his guard down with the senator, that he actually _had_ been teasing her, and that he had forgotten to hate her. The effect was exactly what Qui-Gon had feared; Anakin stiffened, pulled away from the senator physically and closed himself of emotionally. Cool indifference once again dominated what he could sense from the boy, but this time it was coupled with what he could only describe as self-loathing, tinged with anger. When he spoke his voice was cold, almost harsh, "Forgive me Milady, it will not happen again."

Padme's smile had faltered as soon as Anakin had reacted so strangely to her proximity, and an uncertain frown graced her face when he spoke. Now, as she took in his stance, his glare and his tone, Qui-Gon could almost see what she was thinking and it was excruciating to witness. It seemed impolite to be there, almost as if he was invading her privacy. She was hurt due to Anakin's sudden withdrawal, desperately looking at what happened and trying to find how she had offended him, desperately trying to see why he was angry, and desperately looking for a way to repair the damage before she lost yet another chance to end her loneliness. In a voice that was almost pleading she spoke, "No, Owen I have no problem with you-" she got no further as Anakin cut her off.

"Milady you are my employer, it was not right for me to tease you, or treat you in any manner other than respectfully," he began in a voice that was even colder than before. He avoided looking at her, instead focusing on a point above her head, "I apologize and I assure you that it will not happen again. As Captain Typho said, no personal relationship of any sort, even friendship, should get in the way of me doing my duty, and my duty is your safety, Milady. It will not happen again."

By the time he had finished all traces of amusement had vanished from her face, leaving a mask devoid of any emotion, a mask that spoke of the ghost of a queen that resided within her, a ghost that only surfaced at great need. With glistening eyes the ghost spoke in its flat monotone, "I see. In that case I am sorry to have disturbed you Master Walker." With that she turned and walked towards the door. As she was just about to pass through the exit she turned her head to look over her shoulder. One more time she focused directly on Anakin and chose her words carefully, the flat monotone giving them a trace of finality, "I assure you it will not happen again." The door slid shut behind her.

Shaking his head in distaste Qui-Gon let his feelings of disappointment towards Anakin dissipate within the Force before he managed to tear his eyes away from where the senator had just been standing and turned to study his protégé once again. A scowl seemed permanently etched on his features and his posture was entirely too defensive for Qui-Gon's liking. He seemed unable to draw his eyes away from the closed door, his hands systematically opening and closing in fists at his sides, unconsciously, Qui-Gon thought. The boy was far too proud, too proud by half. Unable to resist any longer Qui-Gon spoke, he hoped he didn't sound too judgmental, "Do you believe that went well or was that reaction actually what you were going for?"

Anakin started at the sound of his voice, as if he had forgotten he was there, and then abruptly seemed to realize he had been staring after Padme ever since she left. As if caught doing something he shouldn't have been, Anakin tried to distance himself from the crime. At once he turned and started for his room. As he moved past Qui-Gon he turned his head to look directly into his eyes and spoke in an agitated, angry voice, "Not now Qui-Gon, perhaps later, but not now. Can you please just leave me alone." Though phrased as a question it was not. As Anakin went into his room and started violently removing his clothes and throwing them haphazardly around the room, Qui-Gon left, while all the time thinking, 'He had not _actually_ forgotten he was there, had he?'

* * *

The constant ebbing of the Force washed over him, an infinite source of comfort and peace, something he found that he needed more of lately. His mind floated within its gentle currents, at once centered and focused while at the same time far flung, noticing every ripple, every slight shift in the ever-changing streams. It was harder here to meditate then anywhere else he had been, the enormity of the life present within the Force in any direction had masked its essence, obscured its purity from his view. Only now, days after his arrival, had he learnt, albeit with some instruction, to shift through the dangerously churning movements of the Force that represented the presence of every life form on Coruscant, to look beneath that top layer and find, once again, tranquility.

The other challenge, that other danger, of course had been the shroud of the dark side, that ever present foulness that left whispers of its presence everywhere, yet managed to fade away like early morning mist beneath Tatooine's twin suns, burned into non-existence if you tried to catch it. It was a distraction that stopped you from focusing, stopped you from been able to centre yourself.

But here, this deep within the protective light side of the Force, the dark side could not hope to penetrate. The brilliant white light could never be corrupted with the darkness, could never be anything other than pure. Anakin drew deeply from the Force, allowing it to wash through his every pore, every cell of his being, in what he hoped was a cleansing ritual. This silent commune with the Force was one of the few times that he felt at peace, truly at peace, both within himself and with his place in the world. It was at times like this that he started to believe that Qui-Gon was right, that the Force was his ally and not some strange form of new master.

Breathing deeply, as slowly as possible, and then releasing he started the process of letting all his emotions go, of removing every single thought from his mind and just focusing on the here and now. Meditation was like sleep, it was refreshing, relaxing and with the aid of the Force, one could view his problem with a clear, fresh mind. Just like waking up the day after a particularly horrible or embarrassing incident, everything seemed a little better, a little easier and not as drastic. Being this far connected to the Force, being this deep, his emotions where almost nonexistent, instead he was whole and complete, self-contained in a way that was impossible without the Force's aid.

While at the same time Anakin's mind was lost among the gentle flowing and soothing currents of the Force he was also acutely aware that he was still in his new room, legs folded beneath him on his bed. It was here he had retreated after his unexpected confrontation with Amidala. As quickly as possible he had removed his work clothes, the ones that represented him being in Amidala's service, he had had a quick shower and quickly changed into simple loose black pants and top. After removing his Lightsaber from under his bed and placing it safely away, he had climbed on top of his bed and released his mind into the Force.

After some time of letting the Force wash constantly through him, wash away his anger, his agitation, his annoyance and his indignation that he felt _guilty_ for what had occurred with Amidala, for what he had said, he focused on his body. He let it remove his aches and pains of a long day guarding the senator, let it relax his muscles that had unexpectedly been tense and tight after his confrontation. Quickly, far to quickly for his liking as he would have stayed in this state indefinitely if it was possible, all his aches and pains were gone and it was time to bring himself back to full consciousness.

Ever so slowly he withdrew his mind from the Force, inch by inch more of his conscious mind reentered his body and once again full awareness returned. Feeling refreshed and alert he opened his eyes and took in the sight of Coruscant's setting sun through the window, the red-gold streaks of light filtering through the window and falling upon the black sheets of his double bed and his skin. Been only a few floors lower than Amidala did have its advantages, and the magnificent view was one of them.

With deliberate slowness he got up off the bed, stretching his rejuvenated muscles as he did so and silently he took delight in the calmness that engulfed his mind, a far cry from the near emotional wreck he had been mere hours earlier. Seeing the setting sun on the horizon he realized it was time something that was fast becoming his favorite part of the day, even more so than it had been in the past, dinner. Moving to his closet he put on some shows then after some consideration quickly strapped a Lightsaber under his shirt and moved through the sparsely furnished living room toward the kitchen.

His mind at peace, his troubles forgotten, at least for the day, he moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. Being the onetime slave of a man that burnt water every time he cooked did have its advantages; one either learnt or quickly grew accustomed to soot. 'Now that is looking at the bright side of life,' he thought with no small amusement, 'Qui-Gon would be so proud.' In no time at all he had whipped up some deliciously smelling bantha burgers and had wrapped them carefully so that could be easily transported. The food was much more than he could eat and, quickly deciding to take some drinks this time, moved over to the cooler-unit before heading out the door of his apartment and to the elevator.

After the now almost common place trip down the side of the building and out the front door he went over to his usual spot, a low stone wall where he could view the traffic coming in any direction and sat down. After carefully placing the drinks and one of the burgers on the ledge beside him, he opened his own again began to devour the tasty treat. The sights and sounds that upon his arrival made him uneasy, were slowly becoming as common place as riding in the elevator, where he at first had been intimidated, he now found that just sitting and watching the world go by was somehow relaxing. Leaning back against the wall the supported the ledge he continued eating his burger while keeping an eye mentally and physically out for his companion.

It was just when he started to worry that something was wrong that the Force alerted him to her presence, coming ever closer. She had been running and now was only a few meters away, behind him and to his left he noted. She was now approaching at a slower pace, trying to be unnoticed. Instantly he fought the grin that threatened to spill onto his face and tried his best to act nonchalant. He sat there, starring straight ahead, eating his burger, as she drew ever closer, pretending not to notice her approach. It was a game she seemed to have insisted upon, that she try her best to go unnoticed, even though he was giving her the food.

So he sat there for as long as he could, every so often he would feel her getting closer, as if determined that this would be the time that she would not get caught despite the fact that the last two nights she had been. After the first night of practically forcing her to take the food she had seemingly come to grips with accepting food from him quite quickly, now she was determined to do so without his knowledge for some reason. She would move up as silently as she could then make a dart for the food, though each time he would catch her coming.

The possible reason that he had come up with for this game sickened him, the only thing he could think of been that once she had accepted something with blind trust from a stranger that had come with a price she hadn't foreseen, a price she was determined not to pay again, whatever it may have been. So he played along, not wanting to push her away with demanding too much, too soon, yet slightly annoyed that this would be the forth time he had seen her and still she had only spoken to him once.

The Force sang out a warning and the game began again as he saw a flash of dirty brown clothes out of the corner of his eye. He held out for as long as he dared, then abruptly turned his head to look directly into her blazing green eyes as she came sprinting towards him. As soon as she saw she had been caught she did what was now part of there game, she froze on the spot, once again frightened of him. At least this time she managed to look a little guilty as well.

Standing there frozen, her gaze shifting between looking at the food longingly and at him with distrusted, she waited for him to complete his part of the game, which in her mind was to move a safe distance away so she could get at the food without having to come any nearer to him. Unfortunately for her today was the day he had decided to change the rules, if only slightly. Instead of moving away he simply looked straight at her and said in a gentle voice, "You know it's rude to steal from people, especially when they are giving it to you anyway?"

For his efforts her eyes widened in alarm, before she took an uncertain step backwards, as if poised to flee. With no response forthcoming he continued, "It is polite to say thank you to them when you take what they are offering, though."

Taking another bite of his burger, he tried to remain as unthreatening as possible. Her face was scrunched up in concentration and her eyes where darting between him and the food as if she could not decide what to do. When he had just about finished his mouthful and had given up hope of a response, she surprised him. In a barely audible voice, she muttered, "Thank 'ou," while looking straight at his face, as serious as he had ever seen her, far too serious for a child of seven.

Anakin was delighted, he had truthfully not expected a response and she had caught him with his mouth full so he smiled as best he could and nodded in response to show his appreciation. As if taking his nod as a cue to continue green-eyes dashed forward and snatched up her food before running away with it again but not before snatching _both_ their drinks in the process. Alarmed Anakin forcefully swallowed the remainder of his food, almost chocking, before shouting out indignantly, "Hey, that's mine." Though the giggle he got in response from her retreating back, he quickly decided, was payment enough.

A/N: Please read and review.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I still don't own star wars, fancy that…..

A/N: Sorry about the wait got sidetracked by life and other stories. Okay so the person who sometimes reads my stuff to look for little mistakes that you can't see after you have written 3000 or so words is unavailable at the moment, so I apologize in advance for anything that you find(fingers crossed there's nothing, maybe the odd were/where mistake.) To Russia with love!

As it was intended to be the room was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the two weapons that moved through the air with seemingly deadly intent. The weapons were held at exact angels before their wielders, bathing the two occupants of the room in their eerie glow. One blue, the other pure white. Anakin watched the other man intently, watched the cascading blue light flow over him and, despite the sweat dripping in his eyes, tried to stay solely focused on his movements.

A feint here, a parry there, followed by a quick thrust that he easily avoided by moving backwards out of the Jedi's reach. He began circling the other man, moving to his right, Lightsaber held poised, ever ready. The Jedi stood calmly, undisturbed, and slowly followed him in a tight circle. They had been at this for near an hour and in that time Anakin had discarded his shirt and shoes, leaving only his black pants, trying to combat the heat. Sweat was collecting all over his body, it ran down his back, across his chest in little rivulets, leaving temporary wet trails in there wake. His hair was limp, damp with perspiration and his hands were slick, the sound of his own breathing was heavy in his ears and his sides pinched with cramp.

The air crackled and a streak of blue was heading for his legs at a speed he had originally been unable to believe. Now, nearly a week after their first meeting, it still caught him unawares, though not as often. As quickly as he could he executed a move that had first been taught by Qui-Gon but had recently been drilled into him by the Jedi, he took one step back while at the same time rolling his wrists, bringing his Lightsaber around in a blur that left marks across his vision and meet the other blade before his knee, the muscles in his arms protesting at the impact of catching the other blade. As deftly as he could manage he flicked his weapon onto the other side of the Jedi's, and in the process of completing his turn, sent the other blade into the empty air where his body had once been, to safety. Once more he raised his brilliant white blade before him, ready for the other man to make another move.

For his part the Jedi was unconcerned, his mouth set in a grim line, almost uncaring. _He_ didn't seem to be having any troubles with the apparent heat. Fully dressed in flowing Jedi robes that seemed to cover every inch of his body from head to foot, and his short cropped flaky red-brown beard meant that he should have been hot. 'Force,' Anakin couldn't help remarking to himself once again, 'I bet he hasn't even sweated a drop. He might as well be at a picnic.' The man was unusually silent, it was easier to get Green-eyes to talk then it was to get anything out of the Jedi, so Anakin was surprised at the sound of his gruff, almost angry voice, "Better. You're improving." Well he certainty hoped so, after all the idea of getting his arse whipped every morning for the rest of his life most defiantly did not appeal to him, "But not nearly enough."

Anakin started to respond then paused, his mouth hanging open as he really heard what the other man had just said. It was that split second of hesitation that the other man used, moving forward and knocking Anakins Lightsaber out of his slick hands, then bringing his open palm up in front of him. Anakin felt a dim warning within the force before a powerful surge that he had no hope to counter struck him in the chest and …And for the umpteenth time that day the floor was rushing up to meet his face at what he was sure would be a most unpleasant angle. The impact was everything it promised to be and more. Lights flashed before his eyes, his lungs burned for oxygen. '_That_ …was not fun,' he thought bitterly before the pain slowly ebbed away and he began to appreciate the position he found himself in, 'Force how I wish I could just stay here for the rest of the morning.'

As he lay on the slightly padded floor, trying to regain his breath and work out how the hell that had just happened, the voice of Mr. Happiness himself filled the room, "You focus too much on what you see, on what you hear." He was curt, cold even. "You need to let yourself go deep within the force and let it guide your actions, you need to trust it." Cursing Qui-Gon again for the mere fact he was here, he rolled onto his back, groaning involuntarily and stared up at Obi-wan Kenobi who was looking down at him with cool detachment. "I have never seen anything like it," his voice was soft, his eyes almost lifeless as he shook his head in puzzlement, "it's as if you have been taught how to dance but can't hear the music, can't hear the beat. That's the only way I can think to describe it."

'Yeah well,' Anakin thought bitingly, 'when I was a slave on Tatooine, dreaming of my days of freedom, I don't ever recall this been something I thought often about.' He couldn't say that, of course, so he replied as mildly as he could, whilst trying not to let his anger show, "I didn't exactly have the best tutor."

For the first time that morning something flickered in Obi-Wan's eyes and straight away he regretted bringing up his past. "So you did have a teacher than, a mentor?"

Slowly he picked himself up of the ground, studiously avoiding the other man's intense stare and, while using the Force to bring his saber back to his hand, replied in a careful voice, "I never said I didn't."

"You haven't said much of anything," he countered, which, unfortunately, was true. Apparently this Yoda had briefed Obi-wan about his new morning duties with Anakin in the sparring rooms and had simply left an awful lot unsaid, unexplained. Anakin had felt no need to enlighten him. At first he hadn't seemed to care, content to do what was asked of him by his superiors and leave as soon as he could. Now however, it seemed he was beginning to wonder. "Why would he teach you the subtleties of the Force, the theory of the forms and leave you like this? Was he incompetent?"

Anakin bristled in indignation at the remark made of Qui-Gon; dimly he realized that he felt he was the only one allowed to say such things about him. "He was hardly incompetent," he began hotly, before thinking quickly, "he was unable to complete that part of my training, some excuse about missing limbs." So he drew on his step-fathers condition for inspiration? He didn't feel good about lying anyway, even though he wasn't, exactly.

"A cripple than?" Though his expression did not change, there was something in Obi-Wan's tone that was frankly disbelieving. He could not have detected the partial lie, could he? 'Certainly not', he uneasily decided.

"Something like that," he vaguely answered, before a smile forced its way onto his features, "but that didn't stop him popping in whenever he wanted." 'And still doesn't' he mentally added. Force, he was actually starting to like this whole telling the truth while lying business. 'He was spending _far_ too much time around a certain senator,' he absently decided, 'damned politicians'.

"So not a Jedi than, something else?" he questioned sharply. There was a hint of a threat to his tone and Anakin finally picked up on where this was headed. The man was worried that he was teaching a Darksider.

"He was something else alright," he agreed before realizing he had done it again. Damnit! He looked the other man square in the eye, hoping to convey all the honesty he could, "But I'm sure he was something that you would approve of." Now that was an understatement.

Obi-Wan raised a skeptical eyebrow as one word dryly left his lips, "Perhaps." He gestured to the cylinder in his hand, "If that was the case he didn't do to bad a job then, that is a fine weapon," he paused momentarily as if something just occurred to him, "Or did he make it and give it to you? Or did you take it?"

To say he was offended would be like saying that his years of slavery were merely an inconvenience. "I made it myself, Obi-wan." His voice tight, "you don't have to be a Jedi to have morals."

"As I am well aware." He said with absolutely no hint of an apology, "Yet I am also aware that the Lightsaber is the weapon of the Jedi, few others know of its design, fewer still have the skill and knowledge required to place the crystal correctly. But here you stand, Lightsaber in hand, indignant at been compared to the Jedi but adamant that you're not a Sith."

"Everything is not so black and white," he said firmly.

Obi-wan shrugged as he replied softly, his voice heavy with remembrance and anger, "Some things are." After a few minutes he seemed to pull himself out of whatever had taken hold of him and asked another question, his tone more mild, "It is very rare for anyone to have a white blade, what made you chose it?"

Since Obi-Wan didn't know of his past he couldn't answer with the truth so he decided on simple misdirection, "I thought it was obvious, it goes well with my clothes," He gestured at his black pants and shirt, "I personally think it makes me look dashing. You don't agree?"

He just stared at him with his unnerving dead eyes for what felt like an eternity before ruefully shaking his head, "I think I'm beginning to feel sorry for whoever put up with you for so many years and it has absolutely nothing to do with any physical condition." Obi-Wan was _far_ too serious for Anakins liking.

He had had just about enough of this; he didn't get out of bed so early just to be insulted. He ignited his Lightsaber, "Can we continue? I have to be at work in a few hours and I didn't come here for a chat." If he had his way he would learn to fight properly as quickly as he could and stop coming. After only a week he was already looking forward to the day where he could sleep well past the sun rising. In the back of his mind a little voice suggested that he didn't _have_ to be here, that he was been made to be here, just like he was a slave again. Yet he knew that wasn't true, he could leave whenever he wanted and that made all the difference. It was purely by choice that he remained and honored his word to a friend. 'A crippled friend, don't forget,' he mentally added, 'oh how he's going love that.' As a reply Obi-Wan activated his weapon and advanced upon him.

That morning he ended up on the floor many more times and by the end of the session he was sure he was covered in bruises from head to foot yet he felt triumphant. That day marked the first that he knocked Obi-Wan Kenobi down, though, unfortunately, it was not with a Lightsaber. Following the man's earlier example he had deflected the other mans weapon and, pausing in mid swing, extend his arm, drew the Force in as quickly as he could, and pushed. It had probably only worked because the man wasn't expecting it, yet the immense satisfaction of seeing the man's eyes widen in alarm the moment realization bloomed within his head, the joy of knowing the man could do nothing and knowing he knew that as well, was not dimmed. The satisfaction of seeing the other man swept off his feet, thrown clear across the room and into one of the padded walls, which he promptly bounced off and fell to the floor, was irreplaceable.

Watching the other man pick himself up off the floor he had realized he was probably going to get it worse now and he had been right. Yet as he was leaving the temple the image of the Jedi flying through the air filled his mind once again and he was sure that he would never regret it, for that matter never let Obi-Wan forget it.

As he was passing the two Jedi that were guarding the entrance to the temple he briefly checked his shielding and, after finding it perfectly intact, stole a glance at each Jedi. At once he was relieved, he had seen neither of them in the week he had been passing through these great archways and he prayed to the force it stayed that way. Been noticed as a regular visitor to the temple by anyone other than Obi-Wan was not something he wanted to contemplate. With recognition came suspicion, with suspicion came questions and he most definitely did not want to answer anything that a Jedi might ask.

Perhaps in a different life, if Qui-Gon had originally managed to break him of his bonds of slavery and bring him here he might call this place home, might walk these halls and find familiarity in the facades of long dead Jedi that lined the walls. He might find peace within the tranquil environment that seemed to suit so many of the Jedi, might be content to live his days as a member of something greater than himself, might even have found it within himself to help defend the Republic in the war with the separatists that was raging across the galaxy.

Instead these halls represented nothing more to him than a means to an end, a place where he could learn to finally control the so-called 'gift' that he had been granted in its entirety. As a Force user he had had responsibilities thrust upon him, the sole one that he was concerned with though was that through ignorance of his 'talents' he might become a danger to others, he might unknowingly and unintentionally embrace the darkness, a fate that he wanted to avoid at all costs. Consequently he intended to eradicate that possibility, to make sure that he could live the rest of his life without the Dark side of the power that surged through him so readily taking control and destroying the essence of who he was, destroying his very soul.

The Force would _not_ control his life, would not be that all important element around which the rest would revolve, after all there was nothing different about him than any Jedi he had come across, nothing special, nothing that said that the Force would dominate his destiny. Apart from Qui-Gon that is, he did not understand why he could see him and almost no other Force user could, perhaps he was just a little more attuned to the Force having come from such a desolate planet such as Tatooine, while most of the Jedi were raised on Coruscant, where the Force was so difficult to perceive? 'There's no need to worry,' he told himself, 'if there was something that made me different Qui-Gon would have told me long ago.' Of that he was sure.

He passed the Two Jedi, a Twi'lek female and a human male, without incident. They didn't even glance in his direction but he couldn't stop himself from checking that his Lightsabers were secured against his sides, making sure that they couldn't be seen. Hopefully it looked like he was merely adjusting his clothes.

The echo that his footsteps had been making on the polished marble floor dimmed and finally died as he passed through the doors and out into the dull light of the morning. As it had earlier that morning when he was leaving Amidala's residence the brisk morning air hit him fully and not for the first time his mind turned to a little green-eyed girl and he began to worry. 'How the hell did she manage to stay warm at night?' and even more upsetting his mind would whisper quietly, 'Did she manage to stay warm?' His minds eye could picture her sitting in a doorway, or in an alley, trying to shield herself from the wind, her arms wrapped around her legs and her head pressed against her knees, shivering. He could imagine her starting suspiciously at any foreign sound, looking for danger. 'Did she have a blanket? Did she have a somewhat safe place to sleep? What happened when it rained?' Forcibly he once again he tore his mind away from those thoughts. He could do nothing, at least not yet. 'Force she better look after herself until he could.' She didn't trust him yet and eventually that would make all the difference.

He wasn't sure why he was drawn to her so. Qui-Gon would call it the will of the Force, more than a mere coincidence. He preferred to think it was due to the other thoughts that had been plaguing his mind, those of his future. As he made his way down the great stone steps that led away from the temple and through the crowds back to the senator from Naboo's residence he was left once again to contemplate his freedom.

His whole life as a slave he had wanted his freedom, longed for it with a passion but the problem was that he had never let himself actually think he would get it, never let himself believe the day would actually come when he could decide for himself which direction to take his life. It had always seemed like an idealized fantasy, one that he would never attain. It had always been a secret fear of his, eternal slavery. The mere thought of waiting for his freedom and never getting it was enough to drive him to depression. Qui-Gon had never let it get that far but as a result he had never planned his life beyond going to Naboo and visiting Qui-Gon's monument.

Now, now he knew that his current, unfortunate, situation would at the worst last for two years and after that…nothing. It was both exciting and scary. The possibilities were both endless and nonexistent and he was constantly asking himself one question, 'What am I going to do with my life?' It had started as an itch that he couldn't seem to scratch, the need to at least _start_ something, to start building a life. It was the question of what that bugged him. He had some inkling of an idea of how to use the time after his shift finished each day to that end, nothing solid, but he knew he _would_ start something and soon.

After only a week he knew he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life in security. Though, other than that one small detail, he had no idea how he was going to make a living, make his way in the galaxy. A small voice whispered a barely remember promise, 'I want to be the first one to see them all…' Now he was not so sure, a life among the stars held no substance. More importantly it was not a place to take a little girl.

More and more he saw the girl as a part of his life. Somehow she was slowly becoming the most important thing to him that resided on Coruscant and he thought he knew why. Green-eyes represented him at her age and he was going to offer her a helping hand, the helping hand that he had never been offered. He had been left behind by those that perhaps should have helped him. Now, no matter what, he was at least going to offer her the chance of escaping her personal hell as he had never been given the chance to escape his. What he needed before he could do that, though, was her trust.

'But first,' he thought as he pushed his way through the crowd and wonderful smells suddenly wafted to him through an open door, 'first he needed breakfast.' He had an hour to kill before he needed to be outside Amidala's door and looking wonderful in his uniform. Amazingly he could spend it anyway he liked and this place, he looked up at the sign above the door, _Dex's Diner_ was as good as any to spend it, plus it smelled delicious. Even better he could contemplate in relative peace just how he was going to get Green-eyes to spill her name and what he was going to say when, _if_, she asked him for he's.

A/N: That's it from me today, read and review.


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